She pushed the doubt away. There was no room for it now. This was the only way forward—the path toward a future they would forge with their own hands. Ahead, the castle rose against the night, its towers outlined in flames and embers. Her chest tightened, but she pressed on. They made their choice. And together, they would see it through. Atlas released a low, comforting rumble at her side, sensing the storm in her thoughts.
" We'll be okay," Starfania whispered, more for herself than him. " We have to be."
Night had fully settled, the air thick with the weight of impending changes. Stars shimmered overhead, indifferent to the turmoil below, as Starfania crouched beside the balcony railing, her voice barely audible.
" Stay hidden—but be ready," she murmured. " We need a clean escape."
Atlas responded with a quiet rumble before blending seamlessly into the darkness. Once he was gone, Starfania slipped back inside. Her room greeted her with silence. The familiarity of it tugged painfully at her heart—the shelves, the curtains, the faint scent of home. She forced herself to move, gathering the last of her belongings with careful efficiency. She had made her choice. The soft creak of the door froze her in place. Starfania spun around to find Ren standing there, eyes wide, her expression caught between confusion and worry.
" Starfania?" Ren whispered, her gaze dropping to the bag at her feet. " What are you doing?"
" I'm leaving," Starfania said quietly. Ren's eyes widened. " Leaving? But—why? You can't just go like this."
Her voice trembled, desperation slipping through the cracks. Guilt flared in Starfania's chest, sharp and unwelcome, but she held her ground.
" I have to," she said. " This is something I need to do—for myself."
" Can't we talk about this?" Ren stepped closer. " There has to be another way."
Starfania shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. " After my mother died…I started to feel like a ghost here."
Ren stilled.
" Every day," Starfania continued, her voice breaking softly, " I walk these halls and all I see are memories of the home we used to have. The people we used to be. VulcanFire doesn't feel like healing anymore—it feels like standing still in grief."
She swallowed hard. " I need to leave to find something—anything—that might one day help my father heal. Help this kingdom heal. I can't do that if I stay."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and aching. Ren reached out, resting a steady hand on Starfania's arm.
" Promise me you'll be careful," she whispered.
" I will," Starfania said, nodding. " I promise."
She lifted her bag, taking one last steadying breath. The door ahead felt less like an exit and more like a threshold between everything she was about to become. At the doorway, she turned back.
" Thank you," Starfania said softly, offering Ren a small, genuine smile. " For always being there—for me and for my father. Please…keep looking out for him."
Ren nodded, eyes shining. Starfania stepped into the hall. Behind her, the door closed quietly. And somewhere in the castle's depths, unseen eyes followed her every move.
Dressed head to toe in black, Starfania moved like a shadow through corridors she had memorized since childhood. Every stone beneath her boots carried a memory, every turn a whisper of the life she was leaving behind. She slowed as she reached her father's study. The door stood slightly ajar. Starfania hesitated, then stepped closer and peered inside. Cesar sat slumped over his desk, fast asleep, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. Papers were scattered around him—reports, maps, letters half-written and never finished. The lamplight flickered softly, casting long, weary shadows across the room. For a moment, she simply stood there. This was not the king the world saw. This was just her father.
Her gaze drifted to the corner of the desk, where a framed photograph rested beneath a stack of parchment. She crossed the room carefully and lifted it with trembling fingers. Cesar. Queen Lyria. Her baby brother cradled in her mother's arms. And herself—small, smiling, untouched by loss. Her breath hitched. She traced the edge of the photo with her thumb, committing every detail to memory. Lyria's warmth. Cesar's quiet pride. The way everything had once felt whole. Slowly, Starfania looked back at her father. She studied his face—the man she had once run to without fear, the man who had taught her strength before grief hardened him. The man who was still fighting a battle she couldn't see.
" I hope one day," she whispered silently, " you'll forgive me."
Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. From the back of the room, she spotted a folded length of black cloth. She picked it up, hesitating only a second before wrapping it around her face. The fabric hid her features, her name, her birthright. She pulled her hood up. The princess vanished. She turned to leave—but fate was cruel. Her foot brushed an old inkpot lying forgotten near the desk. Clatter. The sound echoed like a shout in the silence. Cesar stirred, then snapped upright, his hand already reaching for the dagger at his belt.
" Who's there?" he barked, authority sharp even through exhaustion. Starfania froze. Then instinct took over. She pulled her hood lower and melted back into the shadows just as her father stood, scanning the room with narrowed eyes. Her heart thundered. She couldn't stay. She ran.